Paranoid
by Golumfryingeggs
Summary: Rorschach is not invited to a meeting and gets a little... paranoid. Inspiration from a piece of fan art I found on Deviant Art. Credit goes to Chemartist and her 'End is Nigh' for being so funny!


I found the most hilarious pics on deviant art and so, feeling creative, decided to write a little one shot for it. Ever since I saw that master piece I could not get it out of my head. So here is the result, after a pudding, a cup of horlics and an egg I could sweat the ate before I did, this is what came out... don't hit me too hard!

It was mid afternoon.

The wind whipped at cloaks and unfastened hair and caressing with cold fingers, a winter's breath. The lone bum stood quietly by the sidewalk, clear blue eyes fixated on the doors and picket sign comfortably resting on his left shoulder. The streets were washed clean from the mornings rain, taking the grime and filth into the gutters and sewers to be washed out to the great open sea. But not all filth could be washed away.

As proven by the smelly bum.

The doors opened. Five people stepped out into the cold air. 'People' would be a term used lightly, seeing as one of the five was glowing a stunning blue and the other four were dressed in vibrant and some elaborate costumes. Yellow, black and brown. All matched to their name sakes.

The cold blue eyes watched and slowly scowled.

He would not be recognized by his... 'comrades'. None knew what his other identity was, but that just made it a little bit more bitter. At least if they recognized him then he could make them feel guilty. There had been a meeting and he'd not been informed. Now in all honesty, he hated the things, he despised being put through hours of wasted time only to come down to an obvious conclusion. So he didn't really mind the break from the stupid things, but he was a little hurt. He wanted to be at least be able to say 'no' to the damned things.

They took that glorious moment from him, by never asking him. But five heroes meeting without the sixth? In costume? In broad daylight? Maybe they're planning to take him out of the group? He's been a little forthright recently and now they want him out. Because they don't like him anymore and because he smells like death. He'd always been a little paranoid and this was as good as any reason to become it in a heartbeat.

If possible his eyes narrowed further without looking idiotic.

They will pay.

He watched them chatting happily in the cold wintry winds. Smiles plastered on porcelain faces. One laughed and he sneered viciously.

He couldn't do all that much outside of his costume, but he would not let them walk by without punishment. Tightening his grip on the picket he stalked forwards, eyes focused on his prey.

"So see you tonight then?" Ozymandias asked with a dashing smile, his pearly white teeth practically blinding the passersby.

"Yes, yes" Night Owl nodded, "And just make sure there's enough sugar"

"Bought seven bags of the stuff," Laurie shook her head as the five made their way down the steps and onto the sidewalk. "And only three is meant for the tarts,"

"Only three?" The Comedian asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, cigar clenched firmly between his teeth "Hopefully our teeth won't rot out-"

"Who's that?" Night Owl said, Blake growled angrily for being interrupted, but thank fully did not press the matter. They turned to look, watching as a small stature homeless guy strolled up to them, his picket was slung over his shoulder and unreadable, due to it being backwards. Ozymandias stiffened slightly, he gave hundreds of thousands of dollars each year to charities, he donated to sanctuaries and even helped build an orphanage. But he'd be damned to be associated on ground level with the buggers.

"Get it away," he stated rather irritably. Resisting the urge to wave his hand in an extremely feminine manner.

"Probably just looking for money," Laurie shrugged, searching the few pockets on her outfit for any change, but coming up empty handed. "You got any Dan?"

He didn't answer her. The man had finally reached them and was now starring at them with such vehemence and hate that it could almost be interpreted that he wanted to beat the living crap out of them... and win... with Jon on their side. Dan stared back and the man narrowed his eyes somewhat more. The smell was positively ghastly, but thankfully no one mentioned-

"You stink," The Comedian waved a cigar occupied hand in front of his face and Dan resisted the urge break his nose. Gods the man could be such and asshole!

"Can we help you?" Jon ventured.

The clear eyes shifted to him. Piercing and burning, ice and fire all mixed into one single stare. It could melt diamonds. Dan opened his mouth to ask again but the bum cut him short. Pulling the sign forwards he held it out in front with both hands, words finally visible to all, but before they could even read the damn thing the man screamed in a high pitched maniac voice that could be heard miles off.

"THE END IS FUCKING NIGH," a thoughtful breath "...BITCHES!"

Then brought the sign back to his shoulder, turned on his heel and left without so much as an expression on the ugly face.

Silence, icy shocked silence followed as the five heroes tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Laurie gaped, Dan blinked, Adrian was (for once) at a loss for words and the Comedian looked positively murderous. Jon stared silently ahead, watching the strange man disappear behind the corner.

"What the hell?" Laurie was the first to break the cold silence.

"Weirdo," The Comedian muttered.

"Right," Dan said softly finally recovering from the shock, "See you tonight," the five masked marauders agreed in silent nods and parted ways without another word, quietly trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Around the corner Walter Kovacs hung onto the wall, sign forgotten on the ground and almost hysterical with laughter.

Rorschach walked down the long passage leading to the Owl's Nest. He was a little tired from the lack of sleep the previous evening. He hands were shoved deep inside his trench coat pockets and his slightly higher than normal, boots trudged through the small water pools created by the mornings rain. It was seven o'clock, exactly 3 hours since he'd confused the living hell out of his 'comrades.' He stifles a smirk, they deserved it.

The night was relatively young, but he wanted to get going, had gotten a good tip on some thugs' hide out and he was rather anxious to plan strategies with Dan but as he reached the Nest he couldn't help but frown.

Daniel was no where to be seen.

The suit was gone, so he checked Archie to see if the man was perhaps making some modifications.

Nothing.

He never really was one to call out someones name. His opinions was that it was probably dumbest and most redundant thing anyone could and would ever do. iLet's advertise for the evil man with the hacksaw where I am while I'm running away in a factory with six billion places to hide/i, he thought angrily, iand while I'm hiding I'll breath heavily and cry, that should help him find me!/i Stupid. The depressing part was he'd actually seen people doing this... usually while he was chasing them.

He slowly made his way to the steps, which led up to the house. Paranoia was his middle name, he was paranoid just about everything; cops, politicians, the media, certain foods, water and soap (especially combined) and of course alphabet soup.

Dangerous little buggers those.

So having a friend missing with his owl suit would get anyone in a tizzy. Not to mention Rorschach. If he had someone to express an opinion to he would probably have claimed that the house had been taken over by an anti-hero faction bent on world domination.

And that would be an ordinary theory.

He sneaked expertly up the steps, carefully avoiding the squeaky parts. He'd came one night, when Night Owl had a cold and painstakingly memorized every spot that creaked on every step in his house. Dan had a surprising amount of squeaky steps in his house.

The kitchen was covered in a blanket of darkness. There was a silent anticipation in the house and not the first time in his life did he wish for Night Owl's night vision goggles they'd make the world so much easier-

"Surprise!"

The kitchen flooded with light, he covered his eyes with one arm for a split second before lashing out with his boot at the bastard who was attacking him. The perpetrator grunted angrily and keeping his eyes closed he brought his fist up and slammed him squarely on what he could imagine was the chin. He heard a loud thud.

Then he opened his eyes.

The soft blue glow of Jon seemed to be only 'moving' thing in the entire room, apart from Dan, in full uniform, rolling on the floor clutching his stomach and mouth. The room was decorated with black, white and blue balloons, the table had little party hats and a big, six inch thick frosting cake and the four of the remaining heroes stood quietly and watched the writhing man.

"Oh gods..." Night Owl muttered spitting blood, "I think I lost a tooth!"

The Comedian looked up with a huge grin, he tilted his glass at Rorschach, "Happy birthday," he grunted and stalked out of the kitchen and into the dining room.

"Birthday?" Rorschach asked, tilting his head.

"Yes, you idiot!" Laurie said with a short snap, "What the hells is wrong with you? Never had one before?'

He shifted slightly under the glare, "No," he muttered feeling a little self conscious.

"Yes, well," Adrian smiled, flashing his pearly whites and Rorschach barely suppressed the urge to cover his eyes again, "That's why we're throwing you one, so... ah... Happy Birthday!" he mimicked the Comedian with tilt of his glass and taking a quick sip he stared down at the writhing Night Owl.

"I think we should help him,"

"Hurm" Rorschach muttered, reaching a hand down to help his pained partner. While he was distracted, Jon lifted his hand and in a blue flash his precious fedora was replaced by a crinkly, brightly colored party hat. Laurie roared with laughter and even Jon gave a small smile, Adrian simply shrugged before heading for the dining room as well.

"Happy Birthday buddy!" Dan said with a bloody mouth, smacking him in good nature on the back, but Rorschach didn't return the friendly gesture. Instead he grunted as he was dragged to the dinning room where more balloons and food was practically pouring down the wooden surface. And he couldn't help think that this was payback for this afternoon, that they'd realized it was him and decided to humiliate him to no end. And no one could convince him otherwise.

Because he always has been and always will be a little paranoid.


End file.
